Yamato's Harmonica and Gabumon's Theme
by Winaru
Summary: Yamato plays an original tune on his harmonica, and revisits an old and familiar piece. One-shot. Some fluff. (Re-post).


Yamato's Harmonica and Gabumon's Theme

Yamato returned the digivice to his pocket and fished out the sleek black harmonica he always carried with him. He blew a few scattered notes into the small instrument, and soon, without too much effort or concentration, a lighthearted, buoyant melody began waltzing gently through the air. He kept both eyes closed; playing as he carefully listened to Sora relive Biyomon's stunning transformation and talk of what she had come to realize about her mother's love for her.

That day Yamato played a happy tune. He wasn't entirely sure where the joy sprang from; he couldn't remember exactly who taught him how to play the song or where he might have heard it before. The notes he played seemed to originate from a room in a deep and honest part of his heart that Sora's words had touched.

The others could not hear the music since they were too busy laughing and teasing Jyou (about what, he wasn't exactly sure. He wasn't able to hear much of what they said). Yamato didn't think they'd notice even if he kept the door of the secret room in his heart open for a minute or two longer. He liked that the whole time no one was paying attention to him. It was a strange feeling. At once his heart felt closer to them—Taichi, Sora, Koushiro and the others—than it had ever been before. But it was equally and comfortably far away from all of them. It was a very strange feeling that he couldn't remember ever having felt before. Yamato felt as though, at any minute, he could open his whole heart to them…if only the others would stop bickering so loudly, he believed he could do it, really, in that moment he felt he could let them know him fully, entirely, and, above all else, honestly.

Although he couldn't prove it, he felt he heard the existence of a certain quality in his music that seemed to tell him that a kind and solitary being out there was using his whole heart to listen to him play. Again, he was powerless to prove the existence of this mystical quality. Even if he wanted to describe it, he wouldn't even know which words to use. Suffice to say, he just knew it must be out there. Something in his heart told him that, without a doubt, Gabumon, if only him, was listening to every note he played.

He played in tune to their laughter; and he slurred his notes to copy the way Sora told her story, kindly and lovingly. When Mimi spoke the melody was always an octave higher than the one he played when Sora or Koushiro began talking. He played with tenderness when his little brother spoke, and when Patamon's squeaky voice danced around his eardrums, he strung together a line of chirpy high notes that he played with a spirited and uneven tempo. Agumon's theme consisted of an awkward combination of cacophonous chords. Soon Yamato realized that the harmonica was the perfect instrument to recreate the adolescent hoarseness that was typical of Agumon's voice. Although whatever he tried he could not imitate the electronic buzz in Tentomon's speech.

Gabumon wasn't speaking, but even then Yamato quickly recalled the sound of his voice, and he found himself grinning at the thought of how immediately it had come sprinting back to him. But he didn't know how to copy it. As much as he could replay each and every detail in his head, he could not figure out how to move his hands and adjust his breathing to mimic the sound that had so quickly become precious to him.

His hands stopped moving and without realizing it he was breathing comfortably through his nose again.

He sat facing the stream, away from his friends with only Gabumon there by his side. Yamato suddenly realized he could hear the water trickling again. He looked up, surprised to stare at the face of this sudden quietness. He saw Takeru turn to look at him for a moment, but only fleetingly; he turned away hurriedly, his face was blurred and Yamato couldn't figure out his expression.

Just then the sky cleared. The sun shone on the fast-moving stream which now sparkled under the deep blue sky. The scattered clouds did not disperse but grouped into one massive floating continent.

"Yamato! What's going on?!" He heard Sora yell towards him with a big grin on her face.

"It was so nice, what you just played. But I couldn't hear it clearly so I told them to stop talking…" shouted Joe, his voice victorious against the birds and the speeding water.

"That's right, onii-chan, why did you stop?" Takeru piped as Taichi drew his hands to his hips and yelled: "Yeah, keep it up Yamato! I'm surprised! You're actually pretty good!"

"I'm very good at the piano you know," Mimi chimed in, "but it's impossible to carry a piano around in these shoes!"

They were surrounded by mountains and their bright and lively voices echoed in that sunny, wide open space. All of them sounded extremely happy and optimistic that even a pair of old wise Digimon, who had been grumbling gloomily about the state of the world and the increasing dominance of darkness, stopped to listen hopefully to their laughter, convinced for a moment that this group of children were really the answer to saving their homeland from the forces of evil.

In the end Yamato didn't get to say a single word. As they buzzed busily amongst themselves he silently raised his harmonica to his mouth and began to play a different kind of melody.

This one he played by heart from beginning to end. He played it as though he had known it all his life. He didn't pause or hesitate as often as he did when he played his own composition. This one showed his skill and talent plainly. The melody waltzing through the air was sweet but it also contained a tinge of sadness.

It was the sound of a kind of sadness all young people must face at some point in their lives. When suddenly we discover exactly how vast the world is. When the world suddenly expands before our very eyes and our hearts swell with uncertainty and sadness as we realize just how small we are, how little we know. How insignificant all our achievements were, though once upon a time we did feel as though we had already conquered the whole world…

For Yamato, it sounded like what he felt the very first night he spent in the Digital World. The sun had long ago dipped below the burning red and orange horizon, and the incongruous stars lighted up the night sky. He was sitting alone by the water, playing a tune on his harmonica, as his mind filled with the events that occurred earlier that day. It was the first tune he had ever played in the Digital World. Yamato still remembered the anxiety he felt that night. His thoughts were focused more on Takeru than on worrying about the monsters. How much time had gone by since he'd been a big brother? In this world that was full of so many scary things, would he be able to rise to the occasion and be the guardian his baby brother needed him to be?

And then Gabumon wandered close to him and spoke to him in the voice that he would come to memorize in no time.

* * *

"This is your theme Gabumon."

There would come a day he'd tell this to his friend. Today wasn't that day. No words that conveyed so much meaning and affection ever came to Yamato so easily.

"I like it," Gabumon replied simply, resting his head against Yamato's arm. His voice sounded kind and content. The wind blew gently that day. It brushed tenderly against Yamato's bare skin and rustled Gabumon's blue and white fur.

"But it's not something I came up with myself. I heard it a long time ago, back when I was still a kid. You can say it's my favourite tune. It's certainly the one I've played the longest, the one I know the best. Maybe that's why it's the one I remember when something bad happens and I suddenly feel that..." His voice lingered, still unsure of how to finish his sentence. "In a way I feel this melody is like you, Gabumon. When I play this melody I no longer feel alone. The bad feelings just slip away. Just like when we're together."

Gabumon didn't budge. He sat there and listened quietly. The others were already asleep. The fire they had built a few hours earlier was still burning brightly, but the pile of twigs and dried leaves beside them was dwindling dangerously.

"Do you know why I was able to digivolve into Garurumon?" Gabumon asked Yamato who looked back at him in surprise. The glow of the flames flickered across his face. "I thought about how sad it would be if I never got to hear you play your harmonica again, how much I would miss listening to that gentle melody you played for me. My heart grew heavier and heavier the more I thought about how terrible it would be if I lost you right when I found you after waiting to meet you for so, so many years… And…" Gabumon's voice gradually melted into the air.

"And?" Yamato wanted to hear more, remembering warmly how Gabumon had fiercely cried out his name just moments before his transformation. He stretched his arms and his hands reached towards the fire.

"And I was surrounded by this vibrant green glow. And then I knew that I could save you."

Yamato remembered the occasion nostalgically and he closed his eyes thinking about the first time he met Garurumon.

"What does it feel like to digivolve?" He asked; he had always been curious about the sensation.

Gabumon tapped his paw to his chin inquisitively. "What it feels like?"

"Yeah, when you turn into Garurumon, or when you became WereGarurumon."

Gabumon kept silent for a long while. Yamato imagined all the possible forms his answer might take. "My thoughts change," he said at last. "Well, first I could feel my body changing. You know that. There was more strength in my arms and legs than I had ever felt before. Next I could feel my thoughts start to change too, as though to keep up with the changes happening to my body. I felt braver. I felt immensely strong. Suddenly I knew things that I never even thought about before. My mind was clear and fresh, I was more resolute and focused on what I needed to do to help you. The first time, the world appeared before me in a brand new light. The first few times I felt like I had become a totally different Digimon. But, after a while, it was just me rising to meet the occasion, doing what was needed of me at the time."

"What about when you change back to Gabumon? Is there some sort of loss, some sort of sadness that you feel because you can't be strong all the time?" Yamato asked, possibly thinking about something that happened to him in the past.

Gabumon turned towards Yamato. The answer had always been resting on the tip of tongue as if he had been waiting a long time for him to ask this question. He didn't need more than a second to collect his thoughts and reply: "It's like going back home. Being Garurumon and WereGarurumon is very exciting but being Gabumon is comfortable and familiar. Being strong takes a lot of effort and energy. I like the adventures we have together, and I'm glad I can become strong for you. But I still enjoy relaxing as my most fundamental self with you.

"But Gabumon's not strong; at least compared to my other selves, my powers are very limited in this form. That's why I have to be more alert, if I can't be strong...I don't feel sad though, because I know what I'm made of, and I know if you were in danger again, Yamato, I would be able to save you, just like I've done many times before."

Just when he finished speaking, Gabumon looked down, wondering if he had said too much, and began taking an immense interest in straightening the fur on his paws. In his own way of thanking Gabumon for being his friend and for all the times he had saved his life, Yamato held up his harmonica to his mouth and began to play the dear, soothing melody for his friend.

The incongruous stars twinkled musically above their heads.

* * *

The night Yamato created his first original composition based on his friends voices, he lay awake thinking whether he could write it down exactly the way it occurred to him during that particular moment in the day. He ran his right hand through his hair and laid it down under his head, grinning in delight as he imagined his friends applauding him for this new talent he had acquired if he were to play this original segment for them someday. Maybe he would come up with even more tunes that no one had heard before...

If in the future there was a girl he really liked…If he played something for her that was completely original and true, there was no way she wouldn't be happy about it, he thought; there was no way she wouldn't like him back. She would lay her head on his shoulder while the seabirds squawked and the salty sea wind gently blew through their hair…

* * *

 _A/N: I was inspired to write this one-shot while re-watching Episode 26 ("Sora's Crest of Love") of the first Digimon Adventure series. I liked how, at the end of that episode, Yamato plays a catchy and playful tune on his harmonica while his friends are having fun and joking around behind him. This was still quite early on in the series and Yamato was still keeping his distance from the group, yet he was laughing with them through his music with Gabumon beside him.  
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 _Thank you for reading :)_


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